


Numbers and Music

by ArtemisEmrys



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Friendship and Love are Precious, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 14:27:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12037812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisEmrys/pseuds/ArtemisEmrys
Summary: Tony lives his life through numbers and music. Bruce has always been good at listening.





	Numbers and Music

**Author's Note:**

> A short drabble that came to me today as I was sitting in a doctor’s office wait room. It’s a look at Tony through Bruce’s eyes, and the music that surrounds their lives. Just a lot of the love that I imagine would flow between the two of them. I love their friendship even more than any possible romance, and there needs to be more stories that display that, I think. Takes place right after the first Avengers movie. Read and Review and Enjoy!

Tony lives his life through numbers and music.

Bruce can see it when he flits by, sparing a grin and bobbing his head to some raucous song that he has JARVIS blaring over the intercom. Bruce can see in the way his hands move to the sound of his humming as he works on some invention in his spare time that will save lives and change the world. The music is obvious. The music comes up in his everyday life, as he sings in the shower, whistles as he scrambles around the tower leaving havoc in his wake wherever he goes.

The numbers are more subtle. The numbers shine behind his eyes, a soundless tune that drives him forward. Bruce can only see them during times of shining genius, of split second decisions that people pass off as reckless, but are calculated down to the last nanosecond. The numbers curl around his fingers like a tangible force as he caresses some holograph that he’s put up in the air, crystal blue and more amazing than Bruce tends to remember.  
It’s amazing how fast he’s gotten used to living around such blatant greatness. He forgets, he sometimes takes it for granted, but then Tony will do something, say something, solve something that will send Bruce crashing back into reality, into pure awe. Tony says he respects, he admires Bruce’s work in his chosen field; Bruce is humbled by Tony’s.

The music is just as important as the numbers. Bruce has gotten pretty good at telling what type of tune, if not the exact song, is running through his head as he creates the world around him. There is a soft tone, not his usual blaring rock mantra, which comes over him when he’s thinking about his family. A soft tone full of equations bounces around the room, for Dummy, for You and Butterfingers, for JARVIS. An algorithm slips out his eyes as he lovingly caresses the family he made for himself when he thought no one else would ever stand to be around for long; Not Pepper, not Rhodey… not Howard.

The equations tend to blot out the music when he thinks about Howard. Pepper sometimes gets lively tones that blot out the loneliness that Bruce used to see seeping through his eyes, out his fingers as he typed long strings of code for hour on end. Sometimes Pepper got sad rock ballads that made Bruce cringe, but that has been happening less and less as of late. Bruce likes to think he had something to do with that, with finding Tony dancing more than brooding, and slowly rebuilding his friendship with his ex-lover. Pepper was important to Tony, she should be by his side, romance or not. Bruce loves to watch Tony dance. It was one of the first things Tony ever did to cement their friendship.

Tony had been dancing to some old tune when he had asked Bruce to come live in the tower, feet tapping out so staccato rhythm of numbers that Bruce could not follow as the stood in the sun next to Tony’s car. He was trying for playful, for nonchalance, but he wouldn’t look at Bruce. He avoided his eyes, poised for rejection, and ready to come up with some quip to hide the pain. He had calculated the risks, the chance he was taking, and knew it was slim that he’d come out ahead. He had done it anyway. He was dancing to distract, whether himself or Bruce, Bruce did not know.

Bruce, despite his reservations at the time, would not let that happen, would not let that certainty of pain come to the forefront. Not to this man who had been nothing but kind to him, who had never once shown an ounce of fear in his presence, despite knowing who, and what, Bruce was. Bruce had swallowed the lump in his throat and for once in his life hoped for the best. He had said yes, and Tony had jerked, surprise written across his features, before he smiled; genuine, bright, dazzling. Bruce felt something melt in his chest, and smiled back.

Tony had actually been singing as they made their way towards the tower in his convertible, towards home, for the first time together. Bruce joined him when he knew the words, and soon they were both belting music to the wind as they flew down the highway, laughing, chuckling, stumbling over the parts they didn’t know. Tony would make up lyrics to amuse himself, and Bruce found himself laughing more than he could remember doing for years. Bruce would never forget that day, nor all the shared songs after, grinning at each other from across the room, across the workbench when something came up on the playlist that they knew the other liked.

Sometimes the music seemed so much more important than the numbers.

Sometime later, Bruce found that the rock and roll seeps back in when Tony thinks about Iron Man, math running fast and quick for flight plans, for angles, and interference, and countdowns. Sometimes, Bruce can tell Tony thinks of Iron Man not as himself, but as a separate entity with its own thoughts, feelings, and a kick-ass playlist. These are the times when Bruce worries for him the most. It’s been a long road, but Tony has slowly started to believe his own proclamation: He is Iron Man. He’s heroic, intelligent, and would lay down his life to save the world, to save a single person, because that’s just the kind of man he is. He’s a hero, with flaws and quirks just like any man, but a hero all the same.

Bruce is grateful he can be around that music, those numbers. They help to remind him every day that he is the same, and Tony makes it a point in life to tell Bruce that he is also a hero. He is a person worth knowing, worth standing by, worth loving, and wasn’t that a surprise? Bruce had hardly believed he would be allowed a…friend, a partner who would be there with him, would welcome and even long for his presence. That, he found slowly, he could have with all of the Avengers. His team, who wanted him there despite everything. With Tony, however, his greatest joy was discovering that he could have more. More than he’d ever dreamed.

The music in their lives was changing and the numbers lining up in new and fantastic ways. When Tony looked at Bruce, and Bruce found himself gazing back into those eyes, so very alive, the music was nothing so cliché as a symphony, or a sonnet. It was a simple tune, one that you could have sworn you’d heard somewhere, all your life, but when you really sat down to listen it turned out to be more complex, more wrenching, than you’d ever imagined. The music Tony had for Bruce blotted out the numbers until the only equation left was one Bruce had not yet figured out.

He’d asked Tony once why. Why him? Why after all that time of chasing, of running and fighting and blotting out the songs that pulled tears to his eyes did he finally start to seek out the music that could match his own? The music that he found, quite by accident, surrounding Bruce?

Tony had lowered the volume of some ACDC ballad that was rocking the walls and smiled at Bruce. Smiled at him with such hidden joy that Bruce found himself clutching his chest as if he was the one who had an arc reactor lodged in it, and it was faltering. He smiled back at Tony, small and shyly, and felt the other man’s oil-stained fingers clasp around his own. He brought them to his lips and placed a kiss on each knuckle, so softly and gently that Bruce had to stop himself from quaking. Moments like these were rare, but when they happened, Bruce knew the numbers had calmed behind Tony’s eyes and the music had taken over. Tony needed to say this as much as Bruce needed to hear it, it seemed.

“You stayed with me.” Tony’s hand cupped his cheek, and Bruce didn’t mind the oil, didn’t mind anything that meant he could be closer to his best friend. “You stayed when everyone left.” Tony rolled his eyes, smirking. “Sure, some of those other guys came back. Even Pepper. But you stayed, and you haven’t left yet. Everyone leaves, but not you. You overcame every instinct you had to come be here with me. I know how hard that must have been for you. You work with me, you play with me, you even sing with me. No one ever sings with me.” Tony’s eyes shone as a smile blossomed over his face, and Bruce couldn’t help it. He leaned forward to capture those lips, a quick kiss of affection that turned into a slow, gentle caress that lasted minutes longer than Bruce had planned, if he had planned anything at all.

Leaning back, Bruce smiled shyly, fixing his crooked glasses, and running a hand through his thick curls. “Okay,” he said, laughing inside. “I can do that. You want me to sing? I’ll sing.”

Tony laughed, joy in his eyes, before shaking his head and turning back to his hologram, to his equations. He held his hand up to them, pausing, before glancing back at Bruce for a second. “As long as you let me sing with you.”

Bruce nodded, “Of course,” and Tony smiled, calling for JARVIS to turn his song back on once more. Bruce returned to his own work, grinning, happier in that moment than he could ever remember being.   
After a few minutes, they were both singing along together.

Fin.


End file.
